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When she reached the cones of light that surrounded the prison, the nearest guards looked up warily, having heard her approaching. But they smiled when they saw what she carried.

“Just a drink to warm your insides on a cold night,” she murmured, praying they’d put her pounding heart down to carrying the difficult burden all the way from the healing center.

“Thank you, Jayah!”

“You’re so thoughtful!”

They’re very grateful.

As she gave them each a mug and began to pour, she distracted them from her task by asking how the prisoners were doing.

“It’s all been very quiet. The earlier shift said there’s been no disruption all day. It’s good. It’s been a rest for all of us.”

.....

“Ah, but that makes it harder not to fall asleep, right?” Jayah said with a wink to the young guards, who grinned.

“Shhhhhh, don’t tell the Captain.”

“I’m certain the Captain already knows.”

She hurried around to them so they would all feel the effects at the same time. There were eight guards in total, pairs at north, south, east, and west of the prison tree, though they spread out at times, and shifted positions to keep themselves awake through the night, she knew.

When she’d served the last one and stood back to make sure they all drank, she was humbled again. There weren’t many who could bring them food or drink while on shift that they wouldn’t doubt in the least. And she knew she was breaching that trust—though for their protection. Still. That scared her. Even for a good purpose, it was still a betrayal.

She waited to regather the mugs one by one, making small talk with the guards as she did so, but then she felt Zev scratching at her mind and she opened to him warily.

‘Thank you,’ His voice was far tighter, more tortured than it had been earlier. As if he struggled to hold himself back.

He was more open—perhaps unwillingly—and she could feel not only his grief warring with his hope, but also the simmering rage. The intensity of his stress was… overwhelming. Toxic, it swirled in his blood.

That kind of darkness would end sanity.

Jayah blew out a breath as she gathered the last of the mugs.

She was doing the right thing.

If Zev didn’t get out of there soon he was going to break, then no one would be safe.

‘It will be half an hour yet, before the guards are asleep. I know it’s hard, but you need to be patient just a little longer,’ she sent to Zev. Then Skhal joined them in the link.

‘Jayah’s going to let me know as soon as they’re out, Zev. I’m just minutes away. But we can’t afford to give them any reason for suspicion. I won’t approach until Jayah is certain. But I’ll have you and Sasha out and moving in minutes, I swear it.’

As one of the guards nearest the door to the tree turned to his partner, the keys flashed, clipped to the belt at his waist, and Jayah’s heart leaped. She sent the image to both of the males. ‘We won’t even have need to pick the locks.’

But then, as Zev thanked them and cut off the link, Jayah chewed her lip.

She’d been uneasy this whole time with the plan to leave the guards asleep. If they were uninjured, it would be questioned how they’d been overwhelmed—all of them at once.

The tea usually removed memory in the preceding moments before the tea was applied, but it was never foolproof. They might remember she’d brought them something—and that would cut off any chance she had to continue to help her people, or bridge the gap for peace.

She’d be banished as a traitor…

But the entire reason for the tea was to save the guards from injury.

Of course… as a healer she knew… she knew exactly where a blow could land to bruise without doing permanent damage…

And in that moment, Jayah changed the plan without telling Skhal.

She farewelled the guards, carrying the mugs and pot to dump them in a creek bed not too far away, but where they would be hidden from view by the overgrown banks. Then she circled back around to return near the prison tree, but downwind.

Peering out from the shadows, she could see the guards beginning to sway on their feet.

‘It’s getting close, but don’t come until I tell you,’ she sent to Skhal, who affirmed that he wouldn’t.

When the first Guard took a stumbling step, then went down, his friend jerked towards him to help him, but then he also fell.

There was a small cry from another guard who could see them, but as he turned, his knees gave out.

Thud. Thunk. Thump.

Jayah waited until she heard eight bodies drop, praying that none of them harmed themselves on the way down. Then she hurried into the clearing.

As she stood over the first guard, sprawled in the dirt, she asked the Creator’s forgiveness. Then, turning his head to reveal just the right spot, near his temple, she tightened her grip on the tree branch she’d collected, then swung it with a very precise level of force—to split the skin and leave a bruise.

He didn’t even flinch, and Jayah blew out a breath.

He would wake with a headache, but no lasting damage.

Then, one by one, for the first time in her life Jayah used her skill as a healer to do harm. And when she was done, she threw the branch away, sickened by the sight of it.

But at least it was done.

She didn’t get up from her squat next to the last of the guards. A piece of her chest became very heavy as she stared down at his slack face, knowing she was the one who’d made it that way. Then she closed her eyes.

‘It’s time,’ she sent to Skhal. ‘Come now.’